One of the predictable effects of raising children is that, as time passes, you find out that you have certain undiscovered skill sets. For instance, until your children become toddlers and try to test their boundaries, you aren’t sure whether you have disciplinary skills. Then, the first time your toddler tries to stick an object in an electrical outlet, you quickly find out the answer to that question. You discover that you are, in fact, rather scary when scariness is called for. You develop and refine your “scary mom eyes” look. This is the look that stops a toddler in his or her tracks without a mom having to say a word. A new power discovered! Huzzah!
Recently, it has occurred to me that the trials and tribulations of the teenage years have led to the discovery of a new skill set that was previously buried deep within my DNA. I am currently in the stage of trying it out to see what it can do. I feel like I’m driving a brand new Ferrari on the autobahn. How fast can it go? How sensitive are the brakes on this thing? At the moment, I can only speculate because my new superpower is a vast, unexplored wilderness of possibility. The identity of this awesome superpower? I excel at being totally, mercilessly embarrassing to my kids.
Like Peter Parker before he was bitten by a radioactive spider, I had no idea that I had these powers before they were revealed to me on a unremarkable fall day in 2017. On that day, I went to my eighth grader’s school to pick her up, parked in the front lot and waited. She emerged from the middle school with a gaggle of girls and a couple of boys. They stopped and chatted in front of the school, flirting and laughing with each other for a very long time. I was “don’t-mess-with-mama” tired and I really needed to be on my way so I got out of my car and walked onto the school grounds. I then approached the group, stood in front of my daughter and said, “Hey, I need to run. Can you come to the car?” This is the point at which my untapped potential became clear. Faces contorted in abject horror. All conversation stopped only to be replaced by cringing middle-school bodies angling away from where I stood. My daughter looked as if Freddy Krueger himself had approached and casually asked if she’d like to be murdered on the spot. She took off at a run towards the car while I bounded behind her trying to catch up. “Hey, how was your day?” I called. “Mom!” she moaned, “Do not ever do that again. Oh my gosh…that was the most embarrassing thing ever!” I stopped to take stock. I had on cool skinny jeans and nice shoes. My hair was brushed. I had spoken in a normal tone of voice and was neither angry nor insistent. “Wait…you mean…like it’s embarrassing that your friends know I exist and that I drive you home from school?” “Yes!” she wailed back. Oh. my. gosh. What kind of talent was this? If I could embarrass a person by merely exposing the fact that I live and breathe air in this world, were there limits to what I could do with my embarrassment powers if I really applied myself?
I have spent the last year finding out. Don’t be jealous but well, it turns out that I am ridiculously good at this. See, I have assigned each embarrassing action a point value. Every day, I play a mental game where I try to get the maximum points possible despite the normalcy of my existence. I am no one special. I raise kids. I do laundry. I buy food and cook it. I walk dogs. The challenge comes in really milking the most embarrassment out of each and every opportunity. As it turns out, this game makes life with teenagers more fun. And while my girls will never admit it, they think it is slightly funny and only occasionally wish I would stop playing it. Today I am going to provide my readers with the game instructions because fun shared is fun multiplied. Amiright? We parents are nothing if not a giant ball of fun at all times! OK, here’s how to play: You wake up and start racking up points! You set goals. If you reach them, you give yourself a prize! A mental high five? An ice cream cone? A nap? You decide.
5 points each:
Existing (See! You already got points when you woke up this morning! Mood boost!)
Not at all being embarrassed that you exist
Wearing supportive shoes that are not as cute as they could be
Enthusiastically waving at other parents that you know
Setting foot upon a middle or high school campus and acknowledging to present pubescent people that you have birthed a child who goes there
10 points each:
Being very friendly to other adults you just met (bonus points if the other adult’s child is in the popular crowd)
Dancing in your kitchen, car or living room when you hear good music
Kissing your spouse in front of your children (just a minor peck will do it)
Showing minor confusion during a customer service transaction and asking for clarification
Giving vicious side eye to teenagers who say the F word loudly in public in front of small children
Using the words “salty,” “dang, son” or “on fleek” in a sentence because those words are apparently not for adults
Wearing a snow hat during winter and taking it off without completely redoing your hair
Calling teenage boys who were young five minutes ago “sweetie” instead of “bud” or “man” in response to their questions
Sitting in a jacuzzi and not caring if the bubbles are making your tankini flare out at the waist thus exposing your flawed belly button (bonus retribution points if your belly button is weird due to pregnancy-related hernia surgery)
Refusing to shower after your workout until you are darn good and ready
25 points each:
Saying any of the following words in public (even in a quiet, confidential voice) – ovaries, tampon, underwear, period
Acknowledging that you also have ovaries, which in fact, led to the birth of your children
Dancing at a wedding, a store, or any public place (bonus points for unrepentant use of eighties moves)
Acknowledging that your stomach is no longer flat by letting your excess tummy rest on the waistband of your jeans for comfort’s sake. (If you wear high-waisted jeans and tuck the fat inside, negative ten points you traitor!)
Talking loudly about how much you’ve grown to like kale with the produce guys at the grocery store because someone needs to understand what can happen when your jeans regularly hurt your feelings
Grabbing your teenager’s hand in public and shouting, “I love you so much, my little boogaloo!”
As I write this, I have reached the seventy-five point mark and it is only five pm on a summer’s day. Not to brag but school is not even in session and that fact is a real potential point value killer. However, the night is young and as my spiritual guide Cyndi Lauper says, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun!” I consider any 100 point day a raging success. So I’m off to be my embarrassing self and I hope you will go forth and do likewise. Just try it. You’ll wonder why you ever thought you had no talents! I totally believe in you!
JulieSteinbrinck says
Absolutely hilarious Amy!